


a little step is the greatest divide

by louistomlinsons



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-07 22:17:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louistomlinsons/pseuds/louistomlinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry meet on tumblr and of course, things begin to complicate themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was based on an au meme i saw on tumblr but lost i am sorry

“Goodnight, Harry,” Gemma called from the hallway, laughter evident in her voice as she treaded lightly to her own room. Harry couldn’t even bring himself to calling out in reply, instead he only continued to scroll through his dashboard, trying to find something, anything to distract himself. 

So far, he was having no such luck. Every link he clicked on led to a video that only caused him to exhale a little more air than usual. He could find none of the usual videos that never failed to make him laugh, so hard he had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stay quiet and cause his gut to hurt so much he thought it would burst. 

Instead, it seemed there was no one online, which was slightly odd. He knew that it was a Friday night and most teenagers were out partying, but never usually the people on tumblr. Most of them shied away from social interaction, much the same way he did. 

Even thinking about how much he hated socializing made him want to cry; to sob into his pillow and clutch his blanket tightly in his palms until he felt no more hurt. 

Harry had really thought Zayn would be different; different from all the other people in the school, all the other people on the football team. But of course, Harry was wrong. Zayn was just like everyone else, only befriending the school’s laughing stock to entertain everyone by publicly humiliating him in front of the entire school by shoving him into a trash can and pouring milk down the front of his shirt. 

So yeah, forgive him for not really being particularly fond of most people. Of course, there were a few exceptions to that. His mother and sister, who he loved dearly and would fall apart without, and Tanya at the bakery he worked at. She could always make him laugh, and she had proved again just that afternoon what a good friend she was by throwing out a bunch of threats against Zayn until Harry stopped crying and started laughing. 

But the laughter from earlier was long gone as Harry struggled to fight back tears. He knew he was a loud crier, and he didn’t want to worry his mother and sister with his audible sobbing. 

Instead, he searched random things on tumblr and wondered when everyone would start logging on and blogging, because he was starting to get bored on top of the heartbreak he was feeling. 

And just as he was about to give up hope and open up twitter (which he thought was stupid and pointless, because he had almost no followers), the little red indicator that h had a message popped up, spiking his interest. He sucked in a sharp breath, wondering what anyone could be messaging him about. He hesitated on clicking the envelope icon, because it would be just his luck that it would be someone on anonymous telling him to kill himself. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he clicked on the notification, albeit a little suspiciously. 

And as he read the message, he smiled very slightly to himself. Because the universe must not hate him as much as he had thought, as he read the message for a second and third time as well. 

“Hi! I know this might be a little forward, but I’ve been wanting to make some new friends, and you seem like a nice lad, so here I am. Sorry if this is awkward, I’m Louis xx”

Harry allowed his grin to grow, taking over his face and stretching his lips so much they hurt. His far began to ache as he tried to wipe the smile off his face. He didn’t succeed and instead focused on answering the message, taking his time to debate what he should say before he typed a safe, 

“Hey! Nice to meet you, Louis. Don’t worry about being awkward. You haven’t seen awkward until you’ve seen me. My name’s Harry .xx”

He quickly sent his answer (privately, of course) and waited anxiously for a reply. He tapped his fingers in a fast rhythm on the side of laptop, wondering why he was so nervous and was he seriously sweating over this? As he was about to give up hope on every receiving a reply (okay, so it was a little pathetic that after five minutes of no reply he was ready to change his name and go into hiding, but), the little red notifier popped up again, and he clicked on it again, this time excitably, whereas the previous time he had been wary of what the message held. Now he figured that the message would be friendly. 

He was right. 

“Nice to meet you too, Harry! That sounds like the name of a prince. And now I’m going to call you Prince Harry forever, you can’t get out of it. Anyways, how are you?”

Harry settled back into the pillows, cradling his laptop closer to his chest, as he tried to type out a reply, though a bit slowly from the awkward position he was laying in. 

“You can call me Prince Harry all you want, I’m flattered. I’ll probably call you King Louis in reply, so I suppose we’re even. I’m good. Had a rough day, but I’m definitely better now. Yourself?” 

He sent his reply and clicked back to the dashboard, and the first thing that happened to load was a gif of a dog learning to catch, but failing instead. Harry barked a loud laugh, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle the disturbing noise. As he continued to scroll, reblogging relate able text posts and laughter inducing pictures, he realized that his day was subtly improving. If he and Louis became good friends, he would have to thank the boy for sending the first message. Reminded of the messaging happening between the two boys, Harry refreshed the page, smiling internally when he saw the red notifier.

“Oh, I’m sorry that your day sucked. That’s always…sucky. My day was pretty good! It usually is though. What are you up to right now, Prince Harry? xx”

Harry’s entire face brightened, trying to contain his giggle. He was actually enjoying his conversation with Louis, who so far had proven himself to be humorous and witty, two traits he was an absolute sucker for. He quickly typed his response, hoping he didn’t seem to eager to the other boy. 

“Nothing much, to be honest. Just laying in my bed, being quite bored on tumblr. Just a typical night for me. And what are you doing, King Louis? .xx”

Harry sent the message and opened a new tab, typing in YouTube. This was part of his nightly ritual. Every night, to help him get to sleep, he watched cat videos on YouTube. He’d take this secret to the death though, because he knew whoever found out about it would never let him hear the end of it. Especially if it was someone from his school.

After about the fifth video, the last one being of a cute Labrador puppy (he had strayed from the cats) falling asleep on the stairs, he decided it was probably best if he went to bed as well. His eyes were drooping quite noticeably, aching with the effort to stay open and stare at the bright light of his screen. 

Before shutting down his laptop and calling it a night, he checked his tumblr one last time. He spotted that e had a message and sleepily clicked on it, not quite as eager and awake as he had been before. Of course, it was a message from Louis. 

“You sound like every other single male in the country right now. Me? Oh I’m about to go to bed. I’ll message you in the morning, Prince Harry, goodnight xx”

Harry smiled and lazily typed his reply before closing his laptop and drifting off into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of a world where he and Louis lived close and went to the same school and were the best of friends. That sounded like a world Harry might actually want to live in.


	2. Chapter Two

"How late were you even up last night?" Gemma asked as Harry all but fell down the stairs, each step leaden and heavy, taking up whatever energy Harry had. "God, Harry, it's lunch time and you look like a zombie. You need more sleep."  
  
"No, I do not," Harry protested, rubbing sleepily at his eyes and attempting to fight back his yawns. "I just lost track of time. Won't happen again."  
  
"Right," Gemma said, rolling her eyes as she stood to put her bowl in the sink. "Well, I'm off to the mall with some friends, mom is at some sort of lunch party and won't be back for a while, you've got the house to yourself. Don't throw a party without me, and if you masturbate please make sure to clean up your mess."  
  
Harry glared at her, crossing his arms. Normally he might have replied and bantered with her, but he was still almost asleep, ready to lay his head on the table and take a nap. She smiled innocently at him, ruffling his hair on her way out the door, grabbing her keys, shaking them in her hand to make them create a jingling sound, and slamming the door as loudly as she could as she left.   
  
Sometimes, Harry wanted to lock his sister in a closet and duct tape her mouth shut so she couldn't annoy him any longer. But he loved Gemma too much to ever seriously consider that idea. Without her, he might not have survived up until that point in his life. He might have gone crazy and murdered somebody, locked away in jail with no hope for a future.  
  
"As if you would ever catch me masturbating," Harry grumbled to no one as he paced slowly over to the pantry, trying to find something suitable to soothe his hunger. Finding nothing, he sighed heavily and gave up, deciding he wasn't hungry enough to make a quick trip to the grocery store. He stood helplessly in the center of the kitchen before deciding he might as well just go back up to his room.  
  
He winced as the stairs creaked under his feet. He doesn't remember them ever being this creaky when he was a child, and they had only begun to grow so noisy when Gemma started missing curfew and sneaking in late, so Harry had his suspicions that the annoying noise was done on purpose.   
  
Not that Harry could ever miss curfew, since he never even went out.   
  
Finally reaching his room, he pushed open the door and was hit with a blast of cool. He realized he left his window and sighed, hoping that the wind didn't pick up anything important and decide to take it on a little trip. He was too lazy to check now and see, but he promised himself that he would later as he pulled his laptop out from under the bed.   
  
He opened it up and felt it begin to whirl to life under his hands, buzzing and making all kinds of noises. It was pretty old, a gift from his father, so many years ago when the bastard tried to come back into Harry's life, though he couldn't be persuaded by the many gifts that arrived at his door step. He would never forgive his father for leaving them in their greatest time of need, and now they were better off without him.   
  
Seeing his laptop has started up, Harry opened up tumblr and smiled when the first thing he sees is the little red indicator, telling him that he has a message. He assumed it was from Louis, and was proven correct when he clicked on his messages and saw Louis' familiar URL.   
  
"Good morning! Or afternoon. Or evening. I'm not sure when you'll get this, so I guess, hello! Did you miss me, Prince Harry? xx"  
  
Harry smiled involuntarily, thinking of how good of friends he and Louis could become. Because Louis couldn't embarrass him in front of the entire school and shut his hands in his lockers and throw his belongings in the trash. He and Louis only had to talk through the computer. They never even had to meet. And Harry could have a best friend. It was literally a win-win situation, no matter what angle he looked at it.   
  
"Hey, King Louis! I missed you so much, I couldn't stand it. I think I cried myself to sleep last night, because I couldn't handle you being gone. Did you miss me, as well? (;"  
  
Harry debated on whether he should delete the winky face or not, but finally he took a deep breath and clicked send. He'd take the chance. And if Louis freaked out, oh well. Harry can block him and nobody would be the wiser.  
  
He opened up spotify and clicked on one of the many playlists he'd created. He smiled softly to himself as the first chords to The A Team began playing gently, the sound almost distorted coming from his useless speakers. He noticed his tumblr dashboard, and refreshed it, watching the new posts load, but none of them catching his attention. What does catch his attention, though, was the indicator that he has a message.   
  
"That's what I like to hear! But, I suppose I must admit that I was feeling a little down myself because I couldn't talk to you, Prince Harry. What are your plans for the day?"  
  
Harry stopped himself before he began to type, wondering if he could somehow say something that would make him appear cooler than he actually was. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of anything witty or charming and instead just directly answered Louis' question.   
  
"Nothing, really. As always. I'll just stay inside and watch a movie, I think. My mom and sister are out so I have to entertain myself. What about you?"  
  
Harry sent the message and stared at his blank inbox. He wondered if he was appearing too eager for Louis, replying immediately to the messages he was receiving. Harry decided that while he waited, he would check out Louis' blog, because he had to admit, he was a bit curious.   
  
He typed in Louis' URL, something witty that Harry would never have been able to think of by himself, and waited for the page to load. When it did, Harry was amazed that Louis had ever wanted to talk to him. He was just a loser with unruly curly hair and a less than average blog. While Louis, on the other hand, ran a moderately popular blog it seemed.   
  
Harry slammed his laptop shut and kicked it to the end of his bed, curling his knees to his chest. Louis was bound to leave him, once he realized how much of a loser Harry was. Or maybe Louis didn't even want to be Harry's friend, and someone from school was telling him to befriend Harry. That seemed the worst of the two options, just the thought that Zayn wasn't done with his torture making his stomach churn.   
  
He opened his laptop again and quickly exited Louis' blog, deciding he wouldn't reply to any more of the boy's messages, unless Louis was in dire need of help. Or something.   
  
But he noticed the indicator for a message again, and sighed in defeat, clicking it.   
  
"As always? Are you some kind of hermit? Or someone who's allergic to the sun? Me? Well I'm just babysitting my sisters, really. All of my friends are out, probably hungover in some town they don't know the name of. This is forward, but Harry, can I see a picture of you?"  
  
Harry choked on his spit.   
  
What was he supposed to do? Louis wanted to see what he looked like. He couldn't show Louis what he looked like! He had never even taken a decent picture in his whole lifetime, all seventeen years of it. He checked his appearance in the mirror across from his bed and decided this was as good as he was ever going to look and opened up his webcam.   
  
He ran his hand through his mussed up hair, laying flat from a restless night's sleep. His eyes drooped, showing how tired he was, and his lips were bitten red. He had never liked his face, the plump girly lips he had and dimples that appeared even when he talked made him self-conscious. Though, his body was okay.   
  
He had been a runner since he was young, a member of the school's cross country team. His leg muscles were slightly above average, though nothing to brag about, and his abs weren't that defined, and he had literally almost no arm muscles. But he was wearing a scoop neck shirt that showed off his collarbones, something that Harry thought to be one of his best features.   
  
Smiling crookedly, Harry snapped the picture an sent it to Louis before he chickened out. Not even minutes later, Harry refreshed his inbox and saw that Louis and submitted a picture of himself.   
  
Tan skin, unblemished, golden, and glowing was the first thing Harry noticed about Louis. Next, was the blue eyes, with depth like the ocean and a kindness to them that made Harry believe Louis was probably good with people and in social situations. His face was accented with striking cheekbones, sharp enough to cut through glass, and make Harry wiggle uncomfortably on his bed. Louis' hair was gelled and gently swept to the side, soft and feathery looking and had Harry wanting to run his fingers through it, repeatedly.   
  
The picture cut off just below the neck, but he noticed the beginnings of a chest piece, written in swirling black ink that had Harry taking a shuddering breath and wiping his sweaty palms on his bed sheet.   
  
Shit. He was fucked.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't proofread this oops.

Harry took a shuddering breath to compose himself before typing out a message to Louis. He didn’t want to be too obvious with his feelings, but he knew he had to tell Louis how gorgeous he was, because everybody needed to hear that as much as possible. 

“God you’re actually gorgeous, King Louis. I’m speechless so I’ll get back to you on some better adjectives to describe you when I’m capable of coherent thoughts.”

Harry could practically feel Louis laughing at him through the Internet as soon as he sent the message. How could he be so stupid? Louis was going to think he was some sort of blubbering idiot with a crush! Which might be true, but. 

Harry noticed the little red indicator and couldn’t even take a steadying breath, he was too nervous. He knew it was just the Internet and what Louis thought of him shouldn’t matter, but he was the closest thing Harry was probably ever going to get to a friend. 

“I could write poems about the color of your eyes.”

Harry sunk back into his pillows, giddy smile set on his face, dimples digging deeper and deeper into his cheeks as his smile grew wider. 

“He didn’t throw up!” Harry screamed into the empty house, jumping from his bed to jump up and down. He couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed, because he was just so happy. Nothing could bring him down, because Louis liked the color of his eyes. 

“What if I taped this and showed it at your graduation?”

Well, almost nothing. 

“Mom!” he cried, reaching for a pillow and throwing it at her where she was still standing in the open doorway. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

His mother only smiled knowingly. “I don’t need to know. This is my house and there should be nothing you have to hide from me.”

“I watch watersports porn,” Harry said, on the off-chance that would get her to leave. 

“Except for that,” she said, backing out of the room, shaking her head at the ground, probably muttering about hiring a therapist for her son. Serves you right, Harry thought to myself, maybe next time you’ll knock.

+

Some minutes later, Harry finally realized that he hadn’t replied to Louis yet. He didn’t want the boy to think that Harry hated him, while it was actually the exact opposite of that. Harry wanted nothing more than to cuddle Louis, kiss him when he was at his highest of highs and lowest of lows. Harry was actually imagining himself in a relationship with Louis, as crazy as that was. 

He shook his head roughly a couple of times to knock those images and thoughts and ideas from his brain before beginning to type out a response. 

“I’m going to somehow become a pro photographer and I’m going to do a whole shoot on your cheek bones.”

As soon as Harry clicked reply privately, he realized how lame that actually was. Except, Louis had already said he was going to write poems, so Harry couldn’t make it seem like he was copying the boy. That would make him seem unoriginal, and Harry wanted to stick out as extraordinary. 

Just as quickly as he had sent the message, he received a reply. Maybe Louis was as eager to talk to Harry as Harry was to talk to Louis, Harry allowed himself to hope. In reality, he knew that Louis was probably going to tell him to fuck off. Sighing, he opened the message prayed for the best while preparing for the worst.

“I like you, Prince Harry, I think I’m going to keep you around for a while.”

When asked, Harry will deny that he squealed like a young girl on Christmas morning when he read that.

+

“Harry, you’re beginning to look like a zombie,” Gemma observed as Harry stomped down the stairs the next morning.

“It’s Sunday,” he said, an obvious statement that caused Gemma to roll her eyes. 

“Yes, Harry, it is Sunday,” Gemma spoke as if talking to a young child. “The day after Saturday and the day before Monday.”

“When did that happen?” Harry asked, in way of reply as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

“About midnight,” Gemma answered, flicking him on the forehead as he stood in the doorway. “Now move, you lump. I need to exit through this door.”

Harry yawned and moved out of the way, letting her pass. She ruffled his hair lovingly and yelled for him to get more sleep.

That was the thing, if Harry had gotten any sleep at all, it would still be more sleep than he had gotten last night. He had stayed up all night, talking to Louis and doing dances like a school girl with a crush. But that’s not what this was. Harry most definitely did not have a crush on Louis, because that would most definitely not end well. Look how the whole Zayn thing had ended up. At the time, Harry had thought he was in love with the most popular boy in school who had taken a sudden interest in the loser of the school. As it turned out, maybe it was only infatuation, but still.

Having a crush on someone he met on the Internet was not good.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head,” Anne said, coming into the room and taking a seat at the table, setting her empty coffee glass on the table. It said, “World’s Best Mother” and Harry had made it in second grade, while the rest of his class made plates, most of which had badly drawn flowers and suns with sunglasses. Harry didn’t understand the purpose of that. Why would a sun need sunglasses? But Harry was different from everyone, even in second grade. While everyone else sloppily wrote “I love you, Mum” on their plates, Harry used a stencil to write out that his mother was the best in the world. And obviously, that was true. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Harry shook his head and took the seat across from her. Taking a good look at his mother, he realized how little they looked alike. While they shared the same hair color, that was where the similarities stopped. Her hair was straight, and under control, while Harry’s was curly and frizzy. Her eyes were a deep, melted chocolate color and Harry’s were the color of newly blooming trees. She tanned easily, maintaining an olive color year round, and Harry mostly burned and was as pale as a snowman made of the freshly fallen snow, yet to be dirtied by the world. 

“I haven’t slept yet,” Harry admitted, resting his head on his crossed arms on the table. “I’m just really tired.”

“Are you having trouble sleeping?” Anne asked worriedly. Harry almost rolled his eyes; she was such a mother. 

Harry shrugged. “A little bit. I guess I’m just not able to turn my mind off.”

Anne smiled sympathetically. “I know the feeling. I’ll tell you what, if you still can’t sleep tonight, I’ll let you stay home tomorrow. I won’t lie, I’m a little worried about what would happen to you if you fell asleep in class.”

Harry gratefully smiled up at his mother. “I think you really deserve the title “world’s best mother.” Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she said, standing up and setting her mug in the sink, atop of all of the other dishes that needed to be cleaned. She kisses the top of his head and left to go run some errands.

+

“What year are you?”  Harry typed into the message box, wondering if there was a huge age gap between the two. He quickly added, “Also, can I have your Facebook?” before clicking send and waiting anxiously for a reply.

Harry didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

“I’m in Uni now. And yeah, just add me! Louis Tomlinson xx”

Harry didn’t waste his time in replying before opening his Facebook quickly searching for Louis’ profile. He found it and added the boy, wishing he weren’t private so he could creep on Louis’ pictures.

“Louis Tomlinson has accepted your friend request” popped up on his screen, followed by his chat sidebar opening up, Louis’ message the first things his eyes went to.

_Your profile picture is hot (;_

Harry giggled to himself and replied.

_Not as hot as yours, let’s be honest._

Louis didn’t reply through the chat and Harry waited, worried that he had said something wrong. But he hadn’t, Louis had just gone and posted on his wall.

“ _Cheers to my new, hot best friend_ , ” he had written on Harry’s wall. Harry went to like it and then saw a comment that someone had written underneath it.

_I always knew Styles was a faggot._

Zayn.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't proofread this, as per usual

Before Harry had the chance to remove the comment, Louis replied to what Zayn had said. Harry closed his eyes and tried not to cry, knowing that the only was this could end was bad. Zayn was going to ruin his life, and Louis was going to realize what a loser he was, and he was probably going to have to move to somewhere in South America and change his name. But he was still a little hopeful, so he opened his eyes on the off chance that Louis didn't reply something disgusted like, "Gross! I didn't Harry liked boys. If I'd known, I wouldn't have talked to him."

 

In fact, it was completely the opposite. Louis had told Zayn to fuck off because the sexual preferences of others wasn't actually his concern, thank you very much. Harry cheered for Louis in his mind, biting his lip to keep the smile off of his face. He refreshed the page and waited a minute, to see if Zayn would reply. It seemed that he had backed down for now and Harry wanted to do a victory dance and sing about the greatness of the world and pretty much just weep. Louis coming into his life was probably the single handed best thing to ever happen to Harry, and he was ecstatic that it wasn't ruined. If Louis hadn't left by now, maybe he wouldn't be leaving at all. 

 

Harry's chat window popped open and along with it, a message from Louis.

 

" _Is it always like that?_ " he asked.

 

" _Yes_ ," Harry regretfully typed, worried that Louis would become some sort of mother hen and go on a rage, demanding Harry do something about it.

 

" _This is your last year, right? Just try to get through, because you'll be the one laughing when you're not working at a fast food restaurant in ten years time_ ," Louis said, successfully cheering Harry up. 

 

" _Thanks_ ," Harry answered, smiling to himself. It had only been a couple of days, but Louis already felt like his best friend. Not that he had anything to compare that feeling to; he had never had a best friend before, discounting his mother. " _Anyway, what are you up to_?"

 

" _Are they going to do something to you at school tomorrow_?" Louis asked, and Harry's grin slipped off his face, expression that of shock, eyes wide and lips parted in fear. He had completely forgotten about school the next day.

 

" _They won't usually physically hurt me_ ," Harry reassured. " _The principal actually has to do something about violence_."

 

" _Yeah, but sometimes words can hurt more than a punch ever could_ ," Louis replied, something Harry knew already. He had been called countless names, from faggot to homo to gay boy to princess to so many more. Words hurt and he wished he knew what he had done to make everybody say those things to him. He had never been spotted with a guy, nor had he ever actually come out. Maybe people were so unoriginal that that was all they could come up. It wouldn't surprise him, given how dumb most people in his town seemed.

 

" _The principal doesn't really care, to be honest_ ," Harry said, his fingers hovering over the keys as he tried to figure out what he could say to change the subject. " _Thanks for sticking up for me_."

 

" _No problem_ ," Louis typed back. " _Can I ask you something, though_?"

 

Harry knew this was the moment of truth. Louis was going to ask if what they were saying was true, and he was going to be disgusted and never want to talk to Harry ever again. It was the same thing that had happened with his dad. He had told his dad, and the next day his parents were telling him they wanted a divorce. His mother probably knew, but he had never officially said anything to her.

 

" _Sure_ ," Harry said, trying to stop his hands from trembling.

 

" _Is what they were saying true?_ " Louis asked and Harry sucked in a shallow breath. 

 

Harry took a moment to close his eyes and attempt to calm down. It didn't help much, but it did stop his body from shaking as much. 

 

" _Yes_ ," Harry typed back, before closing his laptop and trying to hold back his tears. He knew Louis was going to hate him now, for sure this time, like everyone else he knew. 

 

He tried to take his mind off of it, but instead ended up crying, and drifted off into a restless sleep with tears still fresh on his face.

 

+

 

Harry woke up to the shrill sound of his alarm going off. He groaned out loud, pulling the covers over his head and trying to ignore the disturbing noise, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep and never wake up. 

 

"Harry, wake up!" Gemma yelled through the closed door, pounding harshly. "You're going to be late!"

 

"I'm sick!" Harry called back, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to cry. It was all too much; Gemma's pounding and yelling, his alarm going off, and the light poring in through the curtains. "I'm not going to school today!"

 

"Harry Edward," Gemma warned, prepared to burst in and pull her brother out of bed. "You are not sick. Get out of bed."

 

Just as she was about to knock on the door again the door opened and Harry appeared, eyes puffy and red, fresh tears ready to fall down his face. Dried tear tracks are apparent on his cheeks and Gemma made a noise of sympathy. 

 

"Go back to bed," she whispered softly, running a loving hand through his matter curls. "I'll make you some tea and run it up to you. I'll let mum know to call the office and let them know you won't be in school today."

 

"Thank you," he whispered gratefully, voice cracking as he turned back around to retreat to his bed. 

 

"Harry?" Gemma called quietly at her brother's slumped form. Harry turned halfway to stare expectantly at her. "You can't let them win like this."

 

+

 

Soon after his conversation with Gemma, Harry had fallen asleep again, this time interrupted by a beeping coming from his phone. He groaned and rolled over, blindly grabbing for his phone. Squinting at the bright light that shined out when he unlocked his phone, he stared at his notifications. He had at least seven notifications from Louis posting on his Facebook wall. Harry turned off his phone and rolled over, quickly falling back into a restless sleep.

 

+ 

 

Harry finally woke up for the final time at around 1:30, groggy and disoriented, a sinking feeling in his chest. A feeling of depression settled easily into him, pushing on his chest and making him feel like he was being crushed. He thought that he was getting better, but maybe losing two people you considered friends in a period of three days isn't good for one's mental health.

 

He debated whether or not to turn his phone back on, but decided he was a masochist and switched it on, because he wanted to see what Louis had written. He wondered if Louis would be able to come up with more unique and original insults than the boys at school. Probably not, people are all unoriginal these days.

 

He waited for his phone to start up before clicking on his Facebook app, staring at the nine notifications he had. He blinked away tears before clicking on them, staring at the 'Louis Tomlinson has posted on your wall' repeated nine times down. He clicked on the first one and hoped for the best, blatantly ignoring the notification for his messages, figuring he would read those last.

 

Harry was, needless to say, pleasantly surprised.

 

" _Harry, I could never hate you_ ," Louis had written, only a few short minutes ago. Harry liked the post and read the rest of them; they all said along the same line of things. Harry allowed himself a brief smile before clicking on his messages.

 

" _Harry, I'm not judging you. They're narrow-minded shits who will never make it in this world_ ," Louis had responded, seconds after Harry had logged off.

 

" _Thank you_ ," Harry gratefully typed with one hand, using the other hand to dig out his laptop from underneath his bed.

 

" _Always_ ," Louis said. " _You have to trust that I'm going to be here for you. We're friends. Friends don't turn their backs on friends, especially not over something like their sexual orientation_."

 

" _Thank you_ ," Harry typed again, and for the first time in his life, he felt wanted.

 

+

 

Around around 4 o' clock, the doorbell rang and Harry reluctantly answered it, his hair still a mess on his head and wearing nothing but his grey joggers. Normally, Gemma or his mother would answer the door, but since neither of them were home, he would have to endure this task alone.

 

He was surprised, to say the least, when he opened the door and saw none other than Niall Horan standing on his porch, a stack of books laid heavily in his arms.

 

Niall was on the football team, an excellent player from what Harry had heard. Although Niall had never tormented Harry directly, he had done nothing to stop the tormenting, which was just as bad in Harry's book.

 

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked bluntly, crossing his arms self-consciously in from his chest and stomach, hunching over.

 

"I came by to drop off your homework. We're neighbors, so I volunteered," Niall explained easily, handing over the books, which Harry grabbed and set on the floor just inside the entryway. "You've got a lot of homework, so Liam took sympathy on you and gathered up all the homework you had and then ordered me to drop it off to you. Hope that's alright with you."

 

Harry nodded, more than a little confused. Since when did people notice when he was gone, and more importantly, gather up his homework for him? The answer came to him shortly.

 

"We feel bad about what Zayn did to you," Niall rushed, tripping over his words. "We don't know how to make it up to you, but we're willing to try."

 

Harry stared suspiciously at the blonde in front of him, before naively inviting him inside. "Would you like to come inside and we can talk about things?"

 

"Do you have snacks?" Niall asked eagerly.

 

"Yes."

 

"Than I would love to."


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow fastest update yet and it's p r o o f r e a d omg i'm on fire  
> also i'm looking for a beta and if you think that's something you might be interested in, send me a message on tumblr at microlouis ok

After Harry had grabbed a sufficient amount of snack foods for the blonde boy and himself, he led the popular boy to his living room and and proceeded to seat on the work out couch, Niall following his lead. He set the bowl of food between them and stared expectantly at Niall, waiting for him to begin to talk.

"I know you must hate me," Niall began, at which Harry had to resist laughing out loud. "But I've never agreed with what they've been doing to you. And yeah, I guess that's pretty cliché of me to say, but I just didn't know what to do. Zayn would kick my ass if I went against him. Do you see how scrawny I am? That fucker could kill me!"

Harry had to laugh at that and admit to himself that that was a little bit true. Niall wasn't exactly the most muscular lad around, resembling a man who sits in his basement all day, with how pale he was. Slap on some glasses and maybe he could even pass. "Did you know about what he was doing?"

"Not exactly," Niall muttered, uncomfortably rubbing at his neck. "I knew he was going to try and become your friend, but I didn't know how bad it was going to be."

"I was humiliated," Harry said, voice dead and eyes hard. "I've never cried harder in my entire life."

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Niall whispered, looking remorseful and close to tears. "If I had known..."

"The past is the past," Harry said, trying not to cry like he wanted to. "What's been done has been done. I believe that if given the chance to go back and fix things, you would. And I guess that's all I can ask from you. Although, I don't know why you care."

"Because my mom taught me well," Niall boasted proudly, his lips twitching into a small smile. "Liam feels just as bad, if not worse than I do. He would have come over to talk to you too, but he's got soccer practice."

Harry sighed to himself and wondered what he was supposed to do now. "So I can only assume from all of this that you and Liam are the nice ones."

"Zayn's pretty good, too," Niall said, shrugging his shoulders. "When you've got him alone, you know? He's pretty much an ass in any sort of group situation though, as you might know already."

"Yeah, I know it pretty well," Harry attempted joke. Niall smiled regretfully and grabbed a handful of chips.

"I'm sorry it had to be you," Niall whispered, standing up from the couch and turning to leave. "I'm just so sorry."

"So if it was anyone else it would have been morally okay?" Harry countered, and when Niall spoke again, Harry could hear the regretful smile I'm his voice.

"It didn't need to be you."

+

It had taken Harry a moment or so to recover from Niall's visit, visibly shaken by their conversation. Once he had calmed down, he decided he should get started on his homework, because it wasn't like he had much else to do with his life.

He grabbed the pile of books, trudging up the stairs, wincing at the creakiness. He was going to ask his mother to do something about that, first chance he got. He was sick and tired of not being able to sneak into the kitchen for a late night snack, all because the stairs were going to alert everyone in the house of his business.

Reaching his room, he kicked the door open with his foot, quite a feat considering how clumsy he was, and then dumped his books on his unmade bed. He probably needed to clean his sheets, because something was starting to smell in his room, but oh well. He hadn't put deodorant on in the morning, so maybe it was him.

"Where to begin..." he said aloud to himself, tapping his chin thoughtfully. He could probably get his English out of the way easily, that being his easiest subject, and studying for his biology test probably wasn't going to take too long. He decided to start on the hardest stuff first, and pulled out his calculus book, opening it up to whatever page number and reaching for his notebook. He briefly wondered what was for dinner before getting himself in the zone, focusing solely on the task ahead.

Harry didn't even notice the time flying by, until a sharp knock on the door startled him alert. He assumed it was his mother, coming to tell him to set the table or something. But wouldn't it have been easier just to do it herself, instead of walking all the way up the stairs? Mothers...

He opened the door to his concerned looking mother, eyebrows furrowed and worry set on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, scared that something severely bad had happened, like Gemma being in a car crash or his father paying a visit. "What happened?"

"There are some boys here to see you..." Her tone of voice held disbelief and Harry too offense to that. While it wasn't very often anyone came around to see Harry (okay, never), she was his mother and could she at least try and contain her surprise until he was gone?

"Alright, tell them I'll be down in a second," he said, gesturing to the pile of books on his bed. She nodded and turned to leave, looking hesitant before climbing back down the stairs. Harry secured all his papers before following the path his mother took.

He was surprised to find none other than Liam Payne standing in the entryway, Niall standing beside him. Niall sent him a wicked grin, wiggling his fingers in a wave, and wagging his tongue around suggestively.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked unsurely.

Liam shook his head. "I came to apologize. I feel as though Niall probably didn't do a sufficient job, and you must think I'm so rude for sending him to do it. So I came straight here after soccer practice. I hope I'm not bothering you or interrupting anything."

"No, not at all..." Harry reassured, moving out of the way and gesturing to the living room. "Would you like to sit. Anything to eat? Drink?"

"Do you have any more of those chips we ate this afternoon?" Niall asked eagerly, eyes widening when Harry nodded. "Thanks, mate, you're the best!"

Harry snuck into the kitchen to grab a bag of chips and then led the two boys into the living room. Niall plopped down on the couch like he lived there, sprawled out and propping his feet up. Liam, on the other hand, looked uncomfortable, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Harry sat down in one of the plush chairs and waited before Liam sat on the love seat, back straight as a ruler and on the edge of the seat.

"I'm really sorry," Liam began, but Harry cut him off.

"Sorry that he made me fall in love or sorry that he made a fool off in front of the entire school? Sorry that he let me kiss him in public and then you let him shove me into a trash can and pour milk on my head? What exactly are you sorry for?" His voice held venom and hatred, but not directed at the two boys sitting in his living room.

Liam seemed to understand that. "We're not going to be friends with him any more."

Harry looked up from where he had been staring at his hands. He looked quizzically at the puppy-eyed boy, waiting for him to explain.

"At least not until he gets his act together. And we want him to apologize to you."

"You and me both," Harry attempted to joke pathetically. "But you guys don't have to do that. I don't expect that. I didn't expect you guys to apologize."

"We know," Niall jumped in. "But we wanted to, because you deserved an apology, if not from Zayn, then from someone."

Harry smiled genuinely. "Now enough of this depressing stuff, who wants to play a game of FIFA?"


End file.
